Vitale's Story
by InEternalDarkness
Summary: Vitale Riddle, the son of Tom Marvolo Riddle and Bellatrix Lestrange, is shown both the good and bad sides of magic as he grows up-and in the end, he comes to understand a magic his father never knew. Rated Mature for future chapters.
1. Prologue

Vitale's Story - Prologue

It was a little less than a year before the Dark Lord fell for the final time. A normal witch, an Auror, was visiting a by-marriage relative—her sister's husband's aunt's something or other. Now, this relative was a Muggle. No one had any record of any magical activity involved concerning this woman...

And yet, it was there that the Auror first heard the prophecy that would change her life.

_A boy, bourn from those consumed by evil_

_Will share their fate _

_Unless someone with Good in their heart intervenes._

_Left with his caretaker, all hope will vanish_

_Even after his creators' demise._

_But if love is given by the unintended,_

_And understanding taught,_

_He will learn from mistakes_

_And overcome the life his parents prepared him._

As what usually happens with true Seers, the Muggle relative had no clue what had transpired. The Auror in question stayed quiet about the whole ordeal, keeping it in the back of her mind. She was curious which female Death Eater You-Know-Who would choose—it was no secret that some... certain members of the legion were obsessed with their leader. And he would surely choose someone strong, with powerful magical blood, to help him carry on his bloodline... No matter how he came to be, her concern was for the baby boy the prophecy mentioned.

And so the witch's mind was made up. Until the boy was discovered, none but herself would know anything of the prophecy made by a Muggle.

Just as the world started to gain word of Lord Voldemort's demise, that same Auror from nearly a year before was concealing a bundle as she strode into the Ministry of Magic. She was incredibly happy that Kingsley Shacklebolt had been named Acting Minister; not only was he a good friend, he had a level head and was an excellent wizard as well.

She only hoped he would understand her reasoning for her current plan, and try not to kill the boy when he heard what he was.

She hurried into the office just as the baby boy started to cry. Kingsley looked up, his expression showing his instant interest as he watched her sit down. "Elizabeth? Who is this? I didn't know you were expecting a child."

"Hardly." She chuckled, unwrapping her Invisibility Cloak from around the child. The joke didn't sting like it might have years ago—she had long ago accepted the fact that she would never be able to have children. "I will explain all of it, I promise. But I want you to understand first." She uncovered the baby's face, cooing softly to it while she pulled her wand out, placing the tip at her temple and pulling away the memory she needed, letting Kingsley listen to the prophecy.

Afterward, the Minister was silent for a long moment. "... So this is the boy the prophecy speaks of?" he finally asked softly. Elizabeth looked up, watching his face carefully, sensing he would see this through rationally.

"Yes," she murmured, gently laying the now-quiet baby down on the desk. The boy blinked up at both of them with the same dark eyes his parents had, reaching toward Elizabeth again. She smiled and picked him up, cradling him close. "I gained word before I found him that they've christened him Vitale. Ironic, seeing all the bloodshed they've caused over the years..."

"What are you going to do with him?"

"Keep him." Elizabeth looked up at Kingsley as if he were insane to even ask such a thing. "You heard the prophecy. If we show him love, he won't end up like Voldemort and Bellatrix. If we cast him away, I have no doubt that he would be a force to be reckoned with." She glanced up at him. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

"It's your decision, Fawkes," he murmured, acknowledging a certain something she'd revealed long ago to him. No doubt he thought she was following Dumbledore's old rule of lover conquering all other magic.

Just because of that, Elizabeth felt Dumbledore was incredibly intelligent—even if he hadn't been able

She nodded. "I've already used some... protection for him," she murmured, watching Vitale's eyes close, knowing Kingsley would understand what she meant. "I don't want to take the chance that he would be attacked or kidnapped by any remaining Death Eater."

He nodded. "Well, go on home, Liz. Take a few days off to get settled with Vitale."

She smiled, slowly standing, trying not to disturb Vitale. "Thank you for understanding, Minister."

He gave a low, rumbling chuckle. "You do know you're my second, right?" he murmured.

She paused. "I... would be flattered," she said, barely concealing her shock. Though really, she knew she shouldn't be surprised.

"You deserve it the most," Kingsley said quietly, watching her. "Now go. You'll have plenty of work to do when you return." He smiled.

She smiled back, moving to leave the room, taking her time in wrapping up the child as she rode the lift back to the lobby.

Vitale Riddle was the boy who would get all the love Elizabeth had in her heart.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

In all honesty, I felt as if I were the luckiest boy in the world, even though I was only six, and my caretaker, Elizabeth, was a little... overprotective of me. She did all she could to protect me, no matter what the supposed threat was.

I understood though. And she knew I understood.

The fact of the matter was, even then, I could see into her mind. She had explained to me that my father, Tom Riddle, had been excellent at Legi—... Legili... whatever the word was, it was long and my young brain could not quite remember it. Whatever it was called, he had passed on the ability to read minds to me—only, I did not need a spell or a wand to perform the "magic".

Anyway, it was my birthday—July 22. Elizabeth said it was weird for wizards and witches to like things that Muggles did—but she was trying to help me understand Muggles better. The moment she had introduced me to Muggle music and what she said was called "musicals"—well, I just could not understand why wizards and witches would not want to enjoy such things. The things actors and actresses did on stage were practically a magic of their own!

The musical she took me to for my birthday was called Wicked, and it was a story about another type of wizards and witches—ones that went to school to learn magic, not necessarily to hone talent they already, like they did with our kind of magic.

"Do our wizards and witches perform in Muggle things like that?" I asked, wondering if it would be possible to get involved myself. Why not? There was something that called me to it, really—almost like I was just as meant to do something like perform as much as I was meant to be a wizard. Music captivated me.

"Not often," Elizabeth said, shaking her head. "Wizards don't often mingle with Muggles... but it can happen." She smiled. I loved Elizabeth's smile. It made me feel safe, happy... warm. She called herself my caretaker, but in my mind, she was my mother. I had never known Bellatrix, not in my memory. She was not the one who loved me.

According to Elizabeth—and at that young age, I believed what she believed—I was not meant to be a son to Bellatrix and Tom. I was an experiment, powerful magical blood mixed to create the perfect wizard, the perfect weapon against the Ministry and Harry Potter.

Elizabeth just wanted to love me. I could see that much in her mind.

And I did not want to be a tool, a weapon. I did not want to make my parents' mistakes and throw away everything for the possibility that I was strong, powerful... I could not see myself as a Dark wizard, even when I was young. The fact that I was even remotely interested in Muggles proved that much.

"I want to try," I told her. "I want to learn about music."

She nodded. "If that's what you want, we'll figure out a way," she said, running her fingers through my hair like she knew I liked. "Music, dance... anything that interests you in the Muggle world, I promise, I will try my hardest to make sure you can experience it as much as you can."

It is nearly five years later, and I have just come home from a dance practice at a Muggle school when they arrive. I know Kingsley Shacklebolt—Elizabeth introduced me to him long ago and I quite like him, though I do not understand why he and Elizabeth are not together, in their minds they still have feelings for one another and yet I know not to pry too much—but the other man is a stranger.

His mind is kind, though. Peter Daemyn. He is the Headmaster at Hogwarts, the one that replaced Minerva McGonagall.

I know what they are here for before they have the chance to explain, but I wait to speak aside from a polite "Hello, it is very nice to meet you". Elizabeth wants to know on her own, not by my telling her.

"Vitale's name has been on the list for Hogwarts since he was an infant," Professor Daemyn starts as we all sit down. "He's most certainly been accepted into Hogwarts, but there are a few things I would like to discuss before September arrives." He keeps his eyes on Elizabeth, and I wonder if he knows about my special ability. "The professors know Vitale's last name—that isn't something I could avoid. They've agreed to use only his first name for the time being." He looks at me. "I'd like it if you would do the same. I want your fellow students to know you before they know who your parents are."

I nod. "I agree with you," I say softly. "I was thinking of the very same thing a few days ago. I attend a Muggle ballet and dance school, and we can use my full name there because they do not know who Tom Riddle was. At Hogwarts, however, everyone will know the name of the most powerful Dark wizard our world has known." I look away briefly, then back at him. "I want to have my own history. I would rather not carry the weight of a legacy on my shoulders just yet."

We sit there quietly for a moment. Elizabeth is proud, to the point where she is on the verge of tears. She has raised me correctly, and she knows. Kingsley is nodding to himself, satisfied with me as well. Professor Daemyn considers me; then he smiles. He knows there is a chance I will not become my father. He understands that I am telling the whole, complete truth about how I feel.

I have no reason to lie about it.

"Is there anything else you'd like to talk to us about?" Elizabeth asked after that moment of silence.

"No." Professor Daemyn chuckles, pulling a letter out of his pocket and handing it to me. "Everything you need to know is in the letter, but I daresay Elizabeth still remembers what you'll need."

Elizabeth laughs. "Of course I do," she says, and I can see her memories in her mind. It was a very long time ago when she went to Diagon Alley for the first time, but in her memory, she seems as excited then as I am now. I want to learn more about myself as far as magic goes. I want to be able to combine that part of me, as well as the obvious draw I have to the Muggle world... I want to know myself completely.

We say our goodbyes to Kingsley and Professor Daemyn as they leave. When they are gone, I look at Elizabeth. I cannot help but grin. "When can we go to Diagon Alley?"

She laughs; I have to laugh with her. Laugh at myself and my eagerness. Not to mention, her laugh is incredibly contagious. "We'll go first thing in the morning. I think you'll enjoy your first ride on the subway..."

I nod, moving over to hug her, simply happy. She smiles and hugs me back, running her hand through my hair, which is getting longer—something I like, myself, and something she likes as well. I smile at the feeling, humming softly as I curl close to the warmth and love I can feel emanating from her.

The next stage of my life is beginning, and I cannot help but wonder what Hogwarts has in store for me.

I have been to Diagon Alley before, but there is a difference between going for minor shopping and books and going to shop for all the things I would need for my first year at Hogwarts. For me, there is an added charm, an added magic that can compare to what I feel when Muggle music is involved.

Elizabeth takes me along, first to Gringotts to get the money for my supplies. The goblins look at me; I cannot read their minds as well as I do with humans, but I think they know who I am, who my parents were. I wonder if they can sense it in my blood, or maybe in the way I look. I do not know what my father looked like at my age.

I say a friendly hello to the goblin helping us, and in return, get only a grunt and a nod as he leads us off. Elizabeth, in her mind, is slightly taken aback by this behavior.

They must know. It is then that I realize this would be what I would face if everyone at Hogwarts learned my full name. More than ever, this goblin helps me understand the importance of keeping my parentage a secret. Another boy might have flaunted the power, the bloodline, the fact that he was probably going to be the next Dark Lord... I see no point in that. I see no point in Dark magic at all.

Elizabeth stops us outside Gringotts. "Vitale..."

"I know," I say softly. "They recognized me. That is what might happen if my fellow students find out who my father is." I nod. "I understand even more now, Elizabeth."

She nods, unsmiling as she wraps her arms around me. "Once they know you, they won't care, V," she whispers, running her fingers through my hair. "They'll know you're not him, that you're nothing like him. They'll understand." She is reassuring herself as much as she is trying to reassure me. She is afraid someone will hurt me when they find out that I am a direct descendant of Lord Voldemort.

I will never let her know that I now fear the same thing.

We continue on, a silent agreement between us to put what happened at Gringotts behind us. I let myself get caught up in the magic once more, and by the time we are at Ollivander's, I am completely relaxed again.

Mr. Ollivander is... old. I wonder how he and Elizabeth know each other, seeing their friendly greeting, but I try not to find the answer myself. Elizabeth will tell me if she wants me to know, or her thoughts about it will be open. Mr. Ollivander looks at me when I give my hello, and his strange eyes sweep over me, recognition there in his face. I know that much before I even see his mind.

"Ollivander," Elizabeth says, her tone warning. He looks away from me, eyeing her before slowly nodding, moving away to begin grabbing wands. I glance at Elizabeth. She sends me one thought. _Yes, I think he recognizes the Tom Riddle in you. _

I suddenly feel smaller. How many people knew the young Tom Riddle? How many of them will recognize me? How long will it be until someone points it out to everyone else?

I find myself hoping I will be able to relax when I am at school.

In the end, the wand that chooses me is has its wood from a cherry tree, is fifteen inches, and contains unicorn hair core. It feels good to hold it in my hand—like there was something missing before, and I had not realized it. I thank Ollivander for the wand, smiling at him once more, and he seems to take the subtle hint—I am not Tom Riddle. I will never be Tom Riddle.

We head towards the Leaky Cauldron, towards the fireplace where Elizabeth and I can return home. As we walk through the hole in the brick wall, we pass a boy with strange, teal-colored hair.

We also pass Harry Potter—I know him well enough from pictures in books. Messy black hair, vibrant green eyes, round glasses, and... the scar. The very scar my father gave him years ago.

My heart thuds against my chest, and for a moment, I imagine that seeing that scar brings me closer to Tom Riddle than I have ever been before. The thought is ludicrous, and yet, it is there.

He stops walking when he sees me. We stare at each other. He is the first to break the stare, moving on, and I can tell in his mind that he is trying to shake the image of me away. I cannot exist. It is simply impossible that a young Tom Riddle is standing in the back alley of the Leaky Cauldron.

That statement, that thought, is true—I am not my father. I am Vitale Riddle, and I will not carry the weight of my father's name on my back.

I will do something to make my own name known.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Send a list of anything you've forgotten with Alana, alright?"

"Yes, Elizabeth." I smile and kiss her cheek. "I do not think I forgot anything, but if I find something is missing, I will send her right away."

"Good." She returns the smile, squeezing my shoulder. The smile does not meet her eyes, and I know why. It has nothing to do with me. "I want at least one letter every two weeks too, missing things or not."

"I know," I say, chuckling. "I will probably write to you more often than that."

"I daresay you'll be occupied with other things soon enough," she murmurs. "I want you to enjoy yourself, alright? No matter where you get Sorted." She hugged me close, whispering in my ear. "Even Slytherin. It may be the house of the Snakes and you may be the Heir's son, and the Hat may favor you there because of your Parseltongue and your bloodline, but you can prove them wrong."

I nod, hugging her back. "I know," I whisper. Part of me wants to be in Slytherin. Part of me wants to understand how and why my father went from being a "special" orphan to the most feared wizard of all time.

I kiss her cheek once more as the train-whistle sounds. I grab my last bag, running towards the train and waving at her, hopping on just as it starts moving. I stay there to wave some more, knowing she will leave King's Cross and go to the Ministry to start her first day as Acting Minister. I close my eyes briefly, remembering Kingsley's funeral. My heart aches. We still do not know how, exactly, he came to pass away.

I open my eyes and the train is fully out of the station. I make my way back to the compartment I had put my trunk in, but pause just outside the door. Someone is in there—a girl, by the voice of her thoughts. Half-nervous, half-excited about the prospect of meeting a potential friend, I make my way into the compartment.

She looks up at me. Her skin is dark, and her hair as well, but her eyes are the most vibrant blue I have ever seen. She stands, smiling at me, offering me a hand. "Hey. I'm Felicity."

I shake her hand, not used to this behavior in children my age. "My name is Vitale," I say, smiling.

"Wanna be friends?" She grins. I grin back. Another person in my life with a contagious smile.

"If you would like to be friends with me, sure," I say, nodding.

"Kay." She tilts her head, blinking at me. I know her next question before she asks it. "Why d'you speak without makin' words shorter?"

"I have a habit of thinking before I speak," I explain, sitting down. "Also, my caretaker Elizabeth said my parents had problems with their anger... speaking this way helps me make sure I do not have problems as well."

She nods, still looking confused. Finally, she shrugs. "Alright. So what house d'you want to be in?"

"I could see myself in Ravenclaw," I muse, "but I suspect I will end up in Slytherin."

"Oooh, Slytherin? You're a snake?" She grins again. She is teasing me.

I laugh. "Partially," I say evasively, raising my eyebrows.

"... You can speak Parseltongue, can't you?"

I blink. "... Yes," I say, not seeing a reason to lie to her. Felicity seems nice... and it is not only descendants of Slytherin that gain the power of talking to snakes.

She nods. She is still smiling, and as far as I can tell in her mind, she suspects nothing. This is good. I can relax. I leave her mind alone after that; Elizabeth was always concerned that I would use that power too much... "What about you?" I ask, partially to change the subject, but genuinely curious.

"... Slytherin." She nods and laughs. "My parents were in Gryffindor, but I've done enough ta piss 'em off, so why not somethin' else?" She snorts. Even without seeing into her mind, I can see the pain in her eyes. Something happened between her and her parents. Something is keeping them from the love a family should have.

Elizabeth taught me so much about love. For a moment, I think it might have been too much, to be able to detect that so quickly... but no. If I have learned anything, it is that there is no such thing as too much love when the love is wanted.

We make idle conversation; I introduce her to Alana, knowing that the usually-cantankerous owl would actually like her. She seems to prefer females, except when it comes to me. How that works is a mystery to me; she has not yet explained that to me in her mind. I suppose it is just because she is my familiar; it does not matter if I am female or male. We were meant for one another.

We arrive at Hogsmeade station and hear the call for first years. Slightly wary, having heard from Elizabeth that the particular one calling us knew my father when they were young... but I push the thought away. Perhaps he would not remember, would not recognize... As all of the first years headed toward the large man named Hagrid, though, his eyes found me and I could see it, I could feel it, I could hear it.

He had known my father. I resemble my father greatly. It did not matter that he had known I was coming. There was still trepidation in those small black eyes.

I would need to speak with him soon. _Perhaps..._ I eye the boats as my fellow first years board them, hanging back, even when Felicity beckons me to join her and a couple more. If I can speak with Hagrid now, help him understand...

Hagrid eyes me. "Yeh ridin' with me," he mutters after a moment, and I slip into the last boat after he does, the boats taking off soon after.

"Mr. Hagrid," I begin softly, looking up at him. He looks down, seeming surprised for a moment, but the emotion doesn't mask the fear. "I know you knew my father... I wanted to tell you something before we go to the castle."

"... Go 'head." He nods, still surprised.

"I can promise you that I will not be my father. We have been raised in completely different environments. My caretaker has given me more love than Tom Riddle ever knew, and that makes a difference."

He hesitates; finally, he nods. "We'll see," he says grudgingly. "Professor Daemyn trusts yeh, an' he's a good man, so we'll see."

I nod, slowly letting myself relax. I will be fine. If all the professors trust Professor Daemyn's words, and none of the students find out whom my parents were, I will be fine.

We depart from the boats under the castle, and I rejoin Felicity, distracted for a moment by the girl that is with her. She has blonde hair, green eyes, squared glasses... There is something about her, and I do not understand it.

"Hi," she says shyly. "I'm Sophia."

"I... am Vitale," I say, for the first time struggling to keep the contractions out of my sentences. She has messed up my brain.

She is beautiful. She is a whole new kind of beautiful I have ever experienced, and we are only eleven.

She nods and looks away, and I allow a shiver to run down my spine. Felicity eyes me and smirks knowingly. How does she know? She does not have the power... My expression must be giving away my revelation.

All the same, I hardly care. My mind is full of the new girl. _Sophia..._ I follow my fellow first years blindly through to the Great Hall, barely taking anything in for the first few minutes before I shake her out of my mind, looking around the small room. The small look in Felicity's mind tells me we are waiting to be Sorted. Moments later, a professor comes in and leads us out, through the Main Entrance and into the Great Hall, carrying a patched old hat—the Sorting Hat, I assume, something else Elizabeth told me about—and a stool. We gather in a small cluster in front of the four House tables.

I look around.

This... This is where my parents died a decade ago. This is where the Dark Lord fell.

I am filled with some emotion I can't explain. Part of me is almost in despair—and why not? Even if I did not know them, they were my parents—and part of me is relieved, almost in awe of the place that holds so much history, so much power in itself. Would I have been able to experience this, had my father succeeded in his endeavors?

It does not matter.

I am finally at Hogwarts.

I turn my eyes toward the Sorting Hat as its brim parts and begins singing.

_I am old and have seen much, you see_

_The rise and fall of the Dark Lord Voldemort_

_And everything in-between_

_I know much as well, and well, I've come to know_

_Hogwarts is a place to learn_

_And you seeds of youth to grow_

_But there are lessons that are learned_

_That don't require classrooms or professors_

_As far as I'm concerned_

_Now, there are the four Houses that I must put you in_

_The others in your House are your family_

_During seven years, the House Cup you may win_

_Gryffindors, of red and gold, are dauntless to the core_

_Strong, brave, and full of courage_

_Gryffindors show their lion mascot in themselves more and more_

_Ravenclaws, of blue and silver, hold knowledge dear to heart_

_Through books and learning, they know the course_

_Ravenclaws know that, with knowledge, they will never part_

_Hufflepuffs, of yellow and black, are loyal to the last breath_

_Their qualities so mixed that this is where they belong_

_Hufflepuffs will protect loved ones to the death_

_Slytherins, of green and silver, are known to be ambitious_

_And yet the stories we hear are not all bad_

_Slytherins can be good inside, and not only vicious_

_Your mind will show where you truly belong_

_And I, as the Sorting Hat, will see the truth_

_Let us start; I now end this song._

A second late, I applaud with the rest, internally relaxing. If I end up in Slytherin, it is like the Sorting Hat says—being in Slytherin does not mean I will turn out like my father.

The professor that brought the Sorting Hat out conjures a scroll and begins to read from it. "Allan, Thomas."

A short, stocky boy moves forward. I can see his hands shaking as he sits on the stool. The Sorting Hat is placed on his head; after a few seconds of silence, the Hat opens its brim and shouts, "RAVENCLAW!" Thomas looks relieved as he takes the hat off and moves over to the Ravenclaw table, sitting next to a girl who looks like him; they must be siblings.

Names are called, and slowly our group shrinks. I learn that Sophia—Sophia Galbraith, according to the list—is a Ravenclaw, and Felicity—Morris—is a Slytherin. I wonder two things: How will they call me up to get Sorted, and who would I rather be with?

My heart wants both of them. They both seem like they would be good friends. My heart also knows that I want to prove myself so badly that it almost hurts.

I am almost positive that I will be Slytherin.

"Prince, Vitale." They use Elizabeth's name. It warms me on the inside to be claimed as hers. Whispers come from the students as I take my seat on the stool; I can guess that most do not know that Elizabeth has a ward, let alone a possible son with her last name. I can see that some of the teachers are tense, waiting to see what will happen with my Sorting. They are not fooled. They know what last name truly belongs to me.

I close my eyes as the Sorting Hat is placed on my head. I hear the Hat hum in thought. "Your mind is certainly interesting, young Vitale Riddle. Yes, I know your true last name." The Hat chuckles. "You could see inside my mind quite easily, couldn't you? And yet you choose not to. Very curious."

_Elizabeth has taught me that it is better not to pry, unless it is needed. _I respond.

"I see that as well." The Hat laughs. "She has raised you well, young one. Raised you well indeed..." It is back to musing. "I see you're torn between Felicity and Sophia as well... but you're better suited for Slytherin, Vitale. Your thirst to prove yourself sets you there... and you can't deny your lineage. Salazar would've wanted you in his House... aside from that connection with Muggles." It chuckles.

_Alright._ I say. It does not matter; our Houses, hopefully, intermingle enough that I will be able to get to know Sophia as well.

"SLYTHERIN!" The Hat shouts for the Hall to hear; cheers come from the Slytherin table. I take a deep breath and pull the hat from my head, smiling to myself. I can hear some whispers; I think they wonder if Elizabeth will approve of a Slytherin in the family, as she was Ravenclaw, and, of course, we Slytherins have a bad reputation.

I sit next to Felicity, and she grins, hugging me. "Yay! At least I get one friend in Slytherin. Too bad about Sophia though..." She shrugs. "We can still be friends. Doesn't matter about Houses."

I nod. The last few names are read, and once everyone is seated, Professor Daemyn stands. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! As is tradition, I will speak after we have all eaten. Enjoy!"

Elizabeth had told me about the Feast, but I still am not completely prepared for the abundance of food that appears. I watch as others take from the food... except Felicity, who seems to hesitate before she begins filling her plate. I want to know why... but I cannot bring myself to ask, or look inside her mind. Again, if she wants me to know, she will tell me. I start eating to distract myself, forcing myself to relax and enjoy the meal—which is every bit as wonderful as the hype made me expect.

After the feast, Professor Daemyn stands again. "As usual, Mr. Filch and his newly appointed assistant Briana have requested me to inform you that magic is not permitted in the halls, and that a number of magical items, including nearly the entire inventory from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, are also prohibited. I would like to add to that the Forbidden Forest on the edge of the grounds is, naturally, off-limits. I would like to introduce a new addition to our staff—Professor Betty Fragor is taking on Potions, as well as becoming the Head of Slytherin House, in the stead of Professor Slughorn." He smiles. "Prefects, please show your first years to your Houses. To everyone else, good night."

Felicity stifles a yawn as we join the other few Slytherin first years, and I stay close to her as we make our way to the dungeons. I feel safer around her, and I can see a few of the other boys eyeing me, wondering what brought the supposed son of the Minister to Slytherin. I wonder if they will try to do anything.

I do not want to look and see.

I catch another glimpse of Sophia as we walk out. She looks as tired as I feel... I look away before she sees me staring at her. I should not be staring anyway... but there is something that stays in me that is curious about her... more than curious. I want to know her. I want us to be friends.

I barely catch the password into the common room, just curious enough to look around despite being so sleepy. Felicity waves to me as we part ways to go to our separate dormitories, and I wave back, smiling, following the other boys to our room, shivering a little in the cold, slightly damp air.

A coo and a sweep of feathers greeted us as we entered the first years' dorm, Alana landing on my shoulder and nipping my ear affectionately. I stroked her feathers as the others chose their bunks, taking mine last.

"So... Vitale Prince." One of the boys is smirking at me. I look at him and smile as best I can, despite the fact that I do not like the way his voice sounds. "How come nobody ever knew that our wonderful Minister had a son?"

"Perhaps she did not want to spread the word," I say quietly, looking at Alana. She is eyeing the boy who is speaking, and I can feel tense muscles under her feathers. "It is not a crime."

"Makes me think that she could be hiding other stuff from us." He crosses his arms.

"She is hiding nothing," I say, hearing my own voice harden. Nobody should insult Elizabeth, or accuse her of not being truthful. They do not know what she has sacrificed to take me in.

His smirk widens. "Protective of her?" He tilts his head, eyes narrowing. "You don't look anything like her, though, Vitale." He moves closer, trying to get a better look, but before he can get much closer to me, Alana spreads her wings, screeching at him as she beats them. The boy—I take a moment to find his name... Sebastian—scrambles away, eyeing her as he moves back to his own bed.

"I am not one to mess with," I say quietly, petting Alana to soothe her. "You would do well to remember that, Sebastian." The other boys freeze. They do not remember Sebastian saying his name. I raise an eyebrow. "Am I the only one who paid attention at the Sorting?" It is too easy of a lie to tell, but I cannot let them know of the power I have. It could help them guess what they want to know, and the last thing I want is for them to know my true last name.

It is one thing for them to be against me. If they start to believe that I am the descendant of Voldemort... I would not want them to try to change me from who I am.

I nudge Alana off my shoulder and onto my arm so I can lie down, curling up under the blankets. Alana hops over and perches on the table beside my bed, watching the other boys as they reluctantly get into bed themselves. This is not the best situation, creating a wall between myself and my fellow Slytherins, but I was not the cause of it.

The best I can do without giving too much away is try to make sure they do not get too curious.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

I wake up early the next morning to find that Alana has gone, probably to the Owlery once everyone was asleep. I eye the other beds, making sure the others are asleep before I get dressed and grab my things, darting out of the dorm and down the hallway, humming to myself. I know one thing I want to do might have to wait a few days, but I at least need to get a letter to Elizabeth done before our first class.

I find Felicity just coming out into the common room, and I smile and wave at her. She yawns and waves back. "You an early bird too?"

"Yes." I chuckle. "Would you like to go to breakfast together?"

"Sure." She grins, suddenly seeming more awake, taking my hand and darting off, leaving me to stumble behind her until I can match her pace. Internally, I chuckle. I did not expect to find someone so energetic in the morning for a friend, but it is nice. Perhaps, eventually, I can show her some of the things that are important to me that have nothing to do with magic. I wonder what she will think of that. I can already tell that the other Slytherin boys will have a hay-day if they find out that I am a dancer.

I only barely conceal a shudder. I would feel safer if I were in any other House, but in Slytherin, it almost feels like I should be stuck up, arrogant, completely rude... the exact opposite of how I was raised. I simply cannot do that. They will not like me. At the moment, I could care less what they think, as long as they do not find out that I am a Riddle.

We make it to the Great Hall and sit down at the seats we were in the night before, and I take a better look around. It strikes me again that this was where Voldemort and Bellatrix died. I want to speak of it; I want to see what Felicity thinks. But why would a boy—the son of the Minister, no less—think about the death of the Dark Lord?

I keep back my curiosities, worried I will reveal too much, even to my new friend.

Alana swoops in on her own as I pull out a piece of parchment and begin writing, explaining my wonder and amazement of Hogwarts to Elizabeth—and, adding at the end about my revelation, glad that Felicity is distracted by feeding Alana pieces of the crust of her toast. I finish my letter and roll it up quickly, clicking my tongue to call Alana over so I can tie it to her leg. I stroke her beak and she nips the tip of my finger, hooting a goodbye to Felicity before taking off again.

I smile and watch her go. Felicity giggles. "She's a nice owl. Much nicer than the one we have at home."

I glance at her in time to see a darkness in her eyes before something more guarded takes its place. I nod, pretending I saw nothing, offering her a plate of sausages. She takes it with a nod of thanks, but I can see it means more than just the plate, and I smile to myself as we start to eat, glad for silent communication I can understand without having to look into her mind.

More students begin to come in, filling in the Great Hall. The other Slytherin first-year boys eye me in passing; Felicity, back to her normal self, eyes them back. "What's their deal?"

"We had an altercation last night in our dorm," I explain quietly. "They insulted Elizabeth, and neither I nor Alana took too kindly to that."

She blinks at me. "... Oh my god. I am so slow!" She laughs. "Elizabeth! Prince! The Minister of Magic! You're her son!"

I chuckle and nod. "Yes." It feels good to admit that I am Elizabeth's son, even if it is technically a lie.

"I didn't even notice yesterday, I'm so sorry." She giggles. "I was just happy and excited and nervous all at the same time, I barely paid attention to the Sorting."

"It is fine." I smile.

"So who'd you send a letter to?" She looks up as the other owls come sweeping in, a thunderous amount of hoots coming with them.

"Elizabeth." I nod, tilting my head curiously when an unfamiliar owl lands in front of me and sticks out its leg. It does not look friendly, or like the official Ministry owls... still, my curiosity makes me take the letter. The owl leaves without a hoot or a nip. I eye the unopened scroll, glancing at Felicity.

She frowns. "I don't know if you should open it, V." She takes Elizabeth's nickname for me as if she knows it herself. "That owl didn't look friendly... If someone bad figured out you're at Hogwarts—though really, how would anyone know that the Minister's secret son is at Hogwarts?—they might try to hurt you to get to Elizabeth."

I nod. "I will keep it hidden," I say quietly, slipping it into my pocket as Professor Fragor begins passing out our schedules. She smiles as she hands me my schedule; she knows who I am, and by the brief glimpse into her mind, she is fully ready to give me a chance, completely trusting of the Headmaster. I pause as I find something else out, but say nothing. She would want to keep that a secret, indeed.

The last werewolf that taught at Hogwarts certainly didn't last long.

I finish up my breakfast as I read through the schedule. "We have Herbology first today, with Professor..." I drop my fork. "Professor Longbottom..."

Longbottom. I remember that name from one of the stories Elizabeth told me to help me know who my parents were. My mother tortured two Longbottoms to the point of insanity. This Longbottom—Neville—helped Harry Potter destroy my father.

I am not sure what I feel, but there is a definite nervous ache in my stomach. Professor Longbottom will know who I am.

"You okay?" Felicity is frowning at me; she caught my expression. I quickly compose myself and nod, not trusting myself to speak. For perhaps the first time, I can truly acknowledge that my livelihood is in jeopardy. If Professor Longbottom decides not to follow what they have set up... if my classmates know, the entire school will know, and all will be lost as far as efforts to keep my parentage anonymous goes.

"We should get going," I say, nodding. "The Herbology greenhouses are a good walk from here; we do not want to be late to our first class."

She nods, eyeing me though as she finishes up her breakfast and follows me out of the Hall, out of the school and across the grounds. I let myself relax as we walk. I should not look tense when I meet Professor Longbottom. I should not let him give any thought to my being anything like either of my parents.

I look back to see others—the other Slytherin first years, as well as Gryffindor—following us at a slower pace. I want to stay ahead, to be able to gauge Professor Longbottom's reaction myself... but Felicity pulls me back toward the group.

"This is Serenity," she says to me, beaming. The Slytherin girl, Serenity, smiles as she looks me over. "Serenity, this is Vitale, the one I told you about."

She nods. "I remember you from the Sorting." She smirked. "Caused a bit of a stir among the older students, your name... interesting." Her voice is like Sebastian's, and so is the expression on her face—it no better suits her, for my tastes. I wonder what kind of look would be on her face if she found out my real last name.

I shrug. "What say do I have in the way others react to the fact that I am a Prince?" I ask her politely. "They can think what they want of me and my name; it does not mean they know who I truly am."

Serenity eyes me and snorts, shaking her head as she walks off. Felicity, however, grins at me. "I knew I liked you." She links my arm with hers, humming and skipping at my side as we reach the greenhouses.

I see Professor Longbottom before he sees me, but I know he is looking. I wonder why Elizabeth never told me... Perhaps she thought it would not make a difference. Perhaps she relied on the reassurance from Professor Daemyn that it would not matter.

Our eyes meet. He knows my name from the Sorting. He remembers. He is trying so hard to look indifferent, but I can see hatred towards me, one that I have inherited from Bellatrix, burning in his eyes. I wonder what part of me, if any, looks like her. I wonder if my voice would sound like hers, if I spoke differently than what I do... This thought makes me wonder if that was part of Elizabeth's reasoning for teaching me to speak a certain way. It must have something to do with it, at least...

His eyes stay on mine as we take our spots. He performs roll call, his eyes lingering over me once more. For the rest of the lesson, he teaches us about the greenhouses, and he does not look at me again. I tell myself that this is a good sign, that it means that he is at least indifferent... but I still must speak with him after class. As I did with Hagrid, I want him to understand that I am nothing like my parents.

After class, I take my time in putting my things away, waving Felicity along, telling her that I will catch up in a moment. Professor Longbottom is taking his time as well, possibly hoping I will leave if he looks busy, but I steel myself and take a deep breath.

"Professor?"

He remains tense as he looks over at me. "Yes, Vitale?" His tone is polite, but it is obvious that he is hiding his contempt.

I try not to blame him, but he knows nothing about me except my parents. He does not know me.

"I would just like to say that I hope we can get over the barrier that is the fact of who my parents were," I say quietly, evenly, keeping my eyes on him. "I am not Tom Riddle, and I am definitely not Bellatrix Lestrange. I understand it will be hard, but please... I would just like one chance to prove myself to you."

He watches me silently for a moment, scrutinizing me. I do my best to keep my eyes on him, a faint blush burning my cheeks. This is not like the goblins. This is a man whose contempt burns deep and hard, from a boy who never properly knew his parents because of my mother.

We are not so different—and yet, we are. Our parents created internal conflict we just cannot escape.

Finally, he nods. "We'll see." It is not much, but it is something. I hold back the sigh of relief and nod my thanks, smiling at him while I pick up my bag.

"Thank you," I say softly. "You do not know what it means to me."

He nods again. "Surprisingly enough, I think I do." He gives a faint, almost nervous chuckle. I nod once more and leave before things can get any more awkward. I smile to myself as I make my way back up to the castle doors, where Felicity is waiting.

Perhaps I am already doing what I planned. Perhaps Vitale Prince will be the name I will make, instead of Vitale Riddle.


	5. Chapter 4

Our first class with Professor Fragor is after lunch a few days later, double Potions with the Ravenclaw first years. My heart skips a beat when I realize I will see Sophia again, but I force the giddiness down. I should not be so excited... should I?

Felicity notices my lightened mood and smirks. "Someone wants a lil' girlfriend~!" she teases. I snort and try to ignore her. Why would I want a girlfriend? I only want Sophia to be my friend.

Professor Fragor opens the door to the Potions classroom. "Welcome to Potions!" she greets us, a piece of parchment in her hand. "To mix it up a little from what you might experience in your other classes, I've made up a seating chart. Since both of your Houses are even, there will be two Slytherins and two Ravenclaws to every table. This promotes inter-House mingling and prosperity!" She grins, and despite some of the students glancing at each other and muttering, she pushes on, pointing to seats as she calls out names. I relax when I am assigned to the same table as Felicity, instead of being assigned to one of my roommates... but my heart sinks when neither of the two Ravenclaws are Sophia. I shake it off, though. It is alright. There will be plenty of other opportunities to get to know Sophia.

Once everyone is settled with supplies and cauldrons out, Betty moves to the front of the room and taps the chalkboard, the instructions appearing. "I want to see what talent we have in this room," she explains cheerfully. "So, if you all would follow the instructions here... the one who comes up with the best-made potion will earn their house twenty points, and they themselves will get this!" She pulls a large bar of chocolate out of her desk; the class quickly snaps to attention. Some of them have probably never even tasted Honeydukes' chocolate yet.

"This potion will take nearly the entire class, so please, get to work!" She grins again. I take another quick sweep of the entire set of instructions before I begin preparing my supplies. I find myself falling into a rhythm. Cut, measure, cut, measure, scoop into the cauldron. Stir, pause, stir, measure more ingredients... It helps me keep my mind on the singular task, instead of wandering just a few tables away...

I nearly add the tubeworms before I stir again. I snap myself out of thinking about Sophia and, firmly telling myself I would be even more distracted if she were sitting across from me, I concentrate solely on the potion in front of me, glancing at the instructions to reassure myself. I can hear idle chatter as people work, but I zero in on none of it...

Not until I hear my name in the conversation.

"So what about Vitale? I guess we don't know much about him." I don't recognize the male voice... must be a Ravenclaw.

"Something about him's just weird..." Sebastian. "Like, he doesn't look anything like the Minister, for one. Why didn't anyone ever know Elizabeth had a son?"

"Why does it matter? He seems fine to me." A quiet, female voice... Sophia. I register it almost immediately, and have to force myself to keep working.

"His owl attacked me when I got too close," Sebastian muttered.

"Maybe it's just you," the Ravenclaw boy snorts. "I mean, already talking about other people from your own house? You really are the stereotypical Slytherin."

Whatever Sebastian might have been planning to say in rebuttal is interrupted by Professor Fragor. "Time's up!" She starts around the room, and though it looks like she is only examining the potions closely, I can see the slight twitch of her nose as well. The smell of the potions must help her determine how well a potion is brewed.

I watch her examine my potion and have to force myself not to see what she is thinking. I see the slight twitch of her lips as she remembers not to smile, give away what she's thinking. I do the same; I can see from her expression that mine is the best she has encountered yet.

She moves on... and at Sophia's table she pauses. She looks thoughtful, inspecting the potion again, moving back towards me and my potion. I watch her, glancing at Sophia, who is blinking in polite confusion. After a moment of silence, Professor Fragor moves to the front of the classroom again.

"It seems we have a tie," she says, smiling, "and one each from Ravenclaw and Slytherin as well. Therefore, both Vitale and Sophia earn ten points for their Houses, and..." She eyes the bar of chocolate on her desk. "We can split the chocolate between the two of you as well."

"Sophia can have all of it," I say softly, glancing over at my fellow first year, then away again quickly. "I am allergic to chocolate."

Professor Fragor tilts her head to the side, but nods, moving to hand the chocolate to Sophia. "Homework due next class period is an essay on your potion, including what you think the potion was—research is key." She smiles. "Class is dismissed."

The students begin to put their things away; I take my time cleaning out my cauldron, Felicity tapping her foot as she waits for me. I glance over at where Sophia was sitting and see she is already leaving, nibbling on a corner of her chocolate. She glances back at me and smiles, waving. My heart leaps.

"Girlfriend," Felicity coos as I sling my bag on my back. I stick my tongue out at her and start off without her, rolling my eyes. Girlfriend. Ludicrous. Sophia and I barely know each other. It was not like I had been lying about being allergic to chocolate. Of course, I could have given my half to Felicity...

"You are only jealous," I tease as she catches up to me. "You wanted the chocolate."

"Lies!" I look at her and raise an eyebrow. "... Fine, I like chocolate."

I chuckle, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I promise, next time I will keep the chocolate and give it to you."

"Better," she mutters playfully, snuggling into my side as we walk. For a moment, I replace her with Sophia, smiling to myself. I then catch myself, asking myself what I am doing. I cannot go about thinking so flippantly. All of the teasing Felicity is doing is getting to my head.

I promise myself that I will not let something so simple as a girl distract me...

I wonder if my father ever experienced the same thing, thought the same thing.

... I do not know what to think.

It is after dinner a few nights later that I remember the letter that I got from the mean-looking owl. I go back to my dorm and, after making sure no one else is in there, I sit on my bed and open the letter, quiet as I read.

_Dear Vitale,_

_I know you are around the age where you will be going to Hogwarts, and I hope this reaches you there instead of at home. I know Elizabeth will not approve of my contacting you... I also do not know if she told you of your parentage. You were not meant to be with Elizabeth, Vitale. I am your godfather. You may be confused now, but I would like to talk to you in person sometime, when we can both manage it._

_Think about it._

_Atlas_

I stare at the letter, read it over again. This is a Death Eater writing to me. _Godfather? _Atlas is not even a well-known Death Eater's name as far as I know. Why would Voldemort choose someone else over his most trusted servants to be the caretaker of his only son?

I feel more confused than ever. I know I should tell Elizabeth... but I feel like I should respond to the letter out of simple courtesy, and she would not want me talking to any potential Death Eater. Also, by what I remember from that owl, I would not want Alana near it.

I find myself wishing I had someone to talk to about this. I consider Professor Fragor, but we are not that close yet... There is Professor Daemyn as well, but even he...

I sigh, sliding the letter back in my pocket. I do not know what to do. Part of me wants to talk to Felicity, but she... I do not know how she would react to finding out my true last name. I do not know if the rest of the school would find out if I showed her this letter.

_She was right, in a way, _I think to myself. _This letter has cursed me with an indecision I have never felt before._

For a few months, life at Hogwarts is calm... well, about as calm as it ever can be at a school for witchcraft and wizardry. I am enjoying myself and my classes... and the rift between me and my roommates grows. One day, it might be my helping another student from another House in the library. Another, I do even better at Potions and still keep my modesty.

For the first time, I am keeping an eye on someone's mind. Sebastian scares me. I can definitely see Sebastian as a Death Eater. I do not look in his mind often—seeing the thoughts in there... I know they are thoughts I might have had if my parents had survived: Strength of blood and prejudice against Muggleborns, making sure he can put any non-Slytherin down whenever he gets the chance...

I look at Sebastian and I see myself as I would have been.

It is the morning after Halloween when I receive a letter from Elizabeth containing a photo of the night before. I smile at seeing her dressed up, with the Muggle children in our neighborhood that we usually trick-or-treat with. She looks happy. I feel a tinge of homesickness. I would not have passed up my first Halloween for the world now that I know what it is like, but I still wish I could have been there.

Sebastian snatches the photo out of my hand. "What's thi... Well well well." He snickers. "Look at this, our lovely Minister gallivanting around with Muggles, celebrating Halloween their way. Isn't that sweet?"

"Give it back," I say, trying to grab it, but he holds it out of reach. "Sebastian, please, give it back."

He snorts, smirking at me. "You may be all polite and good, but proper Slytherins keep what they want... I think the Daily Prophet would be interested to know what the Minister does in her free time, don't you?"

I do not know how it happens—perhaps that well-known habit of underage magic getting out of control—but Sebastian suddenly calls out and drops the photo as if it burned him. I catch it, sliding it back into the envelope.

"I told you before, Sebastian, I am not someone you want to mess with," I say quietly, slipping the envelope into my pocket. "What the Minister does in her spare time is not any concern of yours, or of the Daily Prophet. You would do well to remember that."

We look each other in the eyes for a long moment. He looks away first, and I allow myself to relax.

It is that night, when I am nearly asleep, when they attack.


	6. Chapter 5

I barely have time to register what is happening before they have me completely pinned down. Sebastian is standing over me, snickering. "It's too bad we haven't learned that Body Bind curse yet, or else this would be even easier than it already is. We need to teach this boy how a true Slytherin should act. But first, he needs to learn a lesson about threatening his fellow roommates."

I tell myself they cannot hurt me too badly—they do not know the curses to do so.

That thought barely has time to give me any comfort before the punches begin. I struggle, but can already tell how pointless it is for me to do so—the magic that helped me get the photo back is not with me now. I try to ignore the pain, to avoid giving Sebastian the pleasure and success, but eventually, it is too much for me, and a cry rips from my throat.

They laugh.

"You know what, I don't think we're doing enough," Sebastian says with a sneer, the punches stopping for a moment while I fight to catch my breath. "I don't think just beating him up like this gives him a reason to fear us. Let's give him something that'll stay in his head for a good long while."

They start ripping at my clothes.

I try to call for help, but they cover my mouth.

No one is coming... No one is—

Sebastian is the first to call out, the first to fall. The other boys let go of me and I watch as they try to scramble away from whoever my savior is. Felicity.

Felicity is the one who heard and answered my call. But how...

I freeze where I am.

I must have called her mentally.

I watch as she takes down another one of the boys, the others running and escaping the room. Breathing hard, she moves to me, muttering about boys until she reaches me. "You okay?" I nod. "And... you're a telepath, huh?"

I bite my lip and nod again. She eyes me for a moment, then slides down to sit in front of me on the bed, just watching me. "... I'm gonna ask you somethin', an' as payback for savin' ya, I wanna hear the truth."

"... Okay." I nod, nervous now, afraid. She is going to ask. She is going to know.

"You're not Elizabeth's son, are you?" she whispers as she looks me over. "You're Voldemort's. I've been thinking about it for a while now, ever since we had that first talk on the train."

"Please do not tell anyone," I plead quietly, feeling tears in my eyes. "The Slytherins might be happy to find out I have Voldemort's blood within me, but the others... I want to avoid anyone finding out, at any cost."

"'Course not," she murmurs, reaching over and pulling me into a hug. The hug hurts because of the bruises I can feel blossoming up, but I hug her back tightly. I owe her much more than that truth, but I know she will not accept anything more at this time.

One day, I will pay her back.

"Um... Can you help me with something?" I ask quietly, feeling bad having to ask even more of her. "I... I would rather not go to Madame Pomfrey like this, or Professor Fragor... I do not want my mother..." I sigh. "I do not want Elizabeth to know."

"Sure honey," she says with a smile, stroking my hair. "Gimme just a minute ta go an' get somethin' that'll help ya." She kisses my forehead and leaves the room.

I eye the boys that are now stirring, and think about getting a change of clothes, but I stay near the headboard of my bed. The second boy Felicity attacked gets into bed quickly, but Sebastian leans against one of the posts, and it looks like he is about to come towards me when Felicity comes back with a small bottle.

"OY!" she shouts, making all three of us jump. Sebastian looks back; I look in his mind and see his fear. I hide a smile as he goes to his own bed, limping.

Felicity looks proud of herself as she comes and sits next to me again, flipping the cap on the bottle and squeezing a small amount of cream on her fingers, gently doctoring my bruises. I relax as the pain goes away, knowing she cannot get to all of it, but whatever comfort I can get is a good relief.

Once she is done, she hands me the bottle. "So you can get the rest," she explains with a nod, kissing my cheek. "I'll see ya in the mornin'... an' if I hear anyone touched ya after I left, there'll be hell ta pay," she adds in a louder, harder tone, looking back at the boys, all of them back in the room now. She looks at me again and smiles, squeezing my hand before getting up and leaving.

The boys eye me but say nothing. Sebastian has the taunt in his head that I needed a girl to save me, but does not speak it. I have the perfect rebuttal too—_I may need a friend to help me out when I am being pinned down by boys who snuck up on me, but at least I did not get beat by a girl or run away from a girl._

I curl up under my blanket to apply the rest of the cream, sighing as the pain seeps out of me. I feel almost numb, though... Part of me knows Sebastian is right. It is not good that I cannot fight my own battles.

I fall into a troubled sleep, full of nightmares of what the boys might have done if Felicity had not come to help.

The next morning, Sebastian, Felicity, one of the other boys in my dorm and I are all summoned into the Headmaster's office. The other boy, Jason, is quiet, and it is obvious from the bruises on both him and Sebastian that Felicity did a number on them. Sebastian is glaring at me and Felicity; Felicity is not looking at either of them, only staring straight ahead. I do not know what to do.

I will have to tell the truth. I might have to confess about the nightmares from the night before.

I am currently trying to avoid a panic attack.

Professor Daemyn is watching us from across his desk, and most of the Headmaster and Headmistress portraits are watching as well. "I would like to know what happened," Daemyn says quietly, "that brought you four here."

"She attacked us," Sebastian says immediately, pointing at Felicity.

Felicity snorts. "I 'attacked' you 'cause you were beatin' the hell outta V," she hisses.

I flinch as Professor Daemyn turns his eyes on me. "Is this true, Vitale?"

I close my eyes, opening them again when images from the dream come back, and nod. "Y... yes," I say quietly, not looking him straight in the eye, part of me feeling he would be able to see everything, know the particular fear that Sebastian and the others have instilled in me.

I watch as he looks at Jason and Sebastian. "Well he's lying of course." Sebastian snorts. "It doesn't look like anyone touched him!"

"Sebastian just stop!" Jason suddenly shouts, surprising all of us. "They'll find out anyway. There's no point in lying about it." He looks at Professor Daemyn. "Sir, Sebastian came up with the idea that Vitale wasn't a proper Slytherin... I think the rest of us just went along with it because we're all kind of tainted by the pureblood mindset that comes with being a Slytherin." He shrugged. "I was in it until Sebastian suggested we take it to the next level..."

"Jason," Sebastian growls.

"No. Seriously, Sebastian." Jason glares at him. "That went way too far."

"What happened?" Professor Daemyn asked calmly. "What did he suggest?" Jason, suddenly silent again, shrinks back. Sebastian merely glares at the wall behind Professor Daemyn. Felicity glances at me, and I know even she does not know the full truth of what Jason meant, what they would have done if she had not come to my aid.

"... Vitale?" Professor Daemyn asks quietly.

I bite my lip and shake my head, closing my eyes, just mentally sending him the memory since he knows I have those telepathy skills.

I keep my eyes closed, despite the dreams coming back to me in full color. In one, it is just Sebastian, and a table that has chains holding me down... In another it is all of them, and they have me tied up, bound, at their mercy... The one similarity is that I can never escape, I can never get away from them, from the invasive feeling, from the fear and the pain and humiliation.

I stop short.

I have unwittingly let Professor Daemyn see those dreams.

I curl up in my seat, the world feeling far away from where I am. I can barely hear that the conversation has started up again, and do not register most of the words... I hear muffled movement, the closing of a door... I look up and around, and realize that it is only me and Professor Daemyn in the room now. Most of the portraits have left as well, giving us privacy.

I look at Professor Daemyn, then away, trying to wipe away the tears that are still falling.

"Vitale," Professor says quietly. "I want your permission to contact Elizabeth about this. She would want to know."

I try to cover up the sound that wants to escape. I feel ashamed. I feel weak. I do not want to feel this way. I want to go to sleep without dreaming. Part of me wants to stay asleep.

I nod. It is all I can do to tell him I hardly care either way.

He nods in return, standing up and offering me a hand. "Madame Pomfrey will have a potion that will help you sleep without dreams," he says softly. "Please let us help you. Sebastian will most likely be expelled... and if you want a transfer of houses, we can work something out for that as well."

I shake my head. "No..." I whisper. My voice is hoarse. "I want to stay. I do not want to run away."

"It is more a matter of your safety, not of running away, Vitale." He frowns.

"I will be fine in Slytherin, Professor," I say, looking him in the eye, trying to convey that I want to stay. I want to prove them wrong.

He looks me over, and finally, he nods. "Deal... if you stay in the hospital wing for a few days while we figure out the situation with Sebastian."

I hesitate, but finally nod. Sebastian is the root of all the problems my dorm is having. If he is gone... I could see myself being able to relax a little more. Maybe even make a friend or two in my own room instead of having Felicity as my only true friend.

I take Professor Daemyn's hand, and I let him lead me away to the hospital wing. If nothing else, I just want to sleep.


End file.
